


More than a Coincidence

by orphan_account



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 14:51:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8331916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's their fifth anniversary and as the future seems wonderful and bright, Aelin can't help but think of the past - what had happened eight years ago, at a party between a faceless noble and a nameless drunkard, was not a coincidence.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Guess what, it’s your favourite bitch back with another fic. (I swear I’m the only one holding this fandom together) Also I am incapable of writing fics less than 1000 words.  
> Enjoy~

 

“I can’t believe you sneaked into your own party,” the King’s Hand mused, looking up to the queen beside him. She stood primly, regarding the dancing crowd before them as an orchestra played in the distance, having appeared at his side five minutes earlier.

The celebration was held in one of Orynth Castle’s beautiful gardens as many gathered, noble and peasant alike, for the King and Queen of the Erilean Empire’s fifth wedding anniversary. The sun had set long ago and faerie lights had been strung up all over the gardens that cast a mystical glow over the partygoers. This was not a celebration of extravagance, it was one of the ordinary, as natural and earthly as possible.

Equal.

Aelin chuckled to herself, gazing down at her simple turquoise gown that came down to her knees and the baby blue slippers that had little bells attached at the toes. Her head bore the weight of a small headdress crafted from daisies and daffodils, and her eyes had been adorned with sparkly, green glitter -she looked more like a fair maiden rather than a queen.

“Habit,” Aelin shrugged and smoothed down her skirts before turning to her husband’s advisor. “You know I went to a party very similar to this once.”

“Yes, it was your fourth anniversary,” Chaol cut in smoothly, settling back into his wheelchair with a chuckle.

“Oh, hush,” Aelin retorted, tempted to smack him on the arm. “Don’t you have a Captain of the Guard to woo anyway?”

“Don’t you have a husband to be dancing with?” Chaol shot back.

Aelin shifted slightly.

“Nervous?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow. It was an odd thing to see; Aelin, mighty Queen of Terrasen, hiding in the shadows. He’d have thought she was done with that after six years as Aelin rather than Celaena.

“Pffft,” she scoffed, “no, I…” she paused, looking down at her shoes in contrast with the grass around them. “Work has been getting in the way of everything lately,” she confessed, putting a hand to her stomach. “I didn’t even _see_ Dorian today, he was already gone by the time I woke up this morning…” Her chest warmed a little at the delirious memories of his lips at her temple, the bouquet of daisies left on his side of the bed, the whispered “I love you”s.

At this, Aelin started to lose herself, and Chaol nudged her into the crowd. Begrudgingly, she made her way to the frolicking dancers, starting to feel the music echo in her soul. Her feet skipped, then her arms waved, then she was twirling, twirling, twirling, and she was lost - lost in a world of colour and music, and all her nervousness melted away until she was smiling and laughing.

“And who is this?” A hand closed around her wrist, making her stop, but her grin never faded and instead grew in intensity at the familiar pair of sapphire eyes. “A mystical fae spirit,” the “mystery” man continued, a smirk on his face. Dorian wore a simple tunic and pants of green and brown, and a modest crown of flowers had been woven into his hair as well. “Oh, spirit, do tell me your name so I might receive your blessings,” he asked theatrically.

She laughed, pure and joyful. “I have no name,” she cooed, the words triggering a memory. “I am whoever the keepers of my fate tell me to be.” She linked their fingers together, smiles on both of their faces, as a memory flashed before her eyes. It was only a flash but she saw her husband, saw Dorian, but it was a younger version of himself, dressed like a noble, a mask upon his face and a guard at his side, those sapphire eyes as timeless as always.

“Then let me call you mine for a dance or two,” Dorian said now and her eyes widened.

“It was you,” she whispered.

He blinked in confusion.

“Eight years ago, you attended a party in favour of Melissande, you met a girl who flirted with you but you were chased away by her jealous boyfriend,” she summarised, her voice slightly shaking, she looked up into his beautiful blue eyes as if she could see their memory within them.

“Aelin,” he said in concern, his brows knitting together. “You have to be more specific, do you have any idea how many-”

He was cut off as she pulled his face to hers. “My name is wind, and rain, and bone and dust. My name is a snippet of a half-remembered song,” she whispered against his lips.

He gasped, inhaling a slight breath. “That was you?” he whispered, one hand rising to cup her face, the other to circle around her waist, pulling her closer.

All around them, the world continued spinning, the dancers kept on dancing, the music kept on playing. But there was a bubble around the king and queen now, where the only thing that mattered was them in that moment.

“Yes,” she breathed, leaning into his touch, “and that jealous boyfriend?” she chuckled, “that was Sam.”

A grin pulled at his lips, though his eyes were still filled with awe. “Well, I can see why you liked him,” Dorian mused sadly, swaying to the music slightly.

Aelin sighed, a torrent of memories threatening to assault her mind, but a smile still grew on her face and she pecked a kiss to his lips. “I would have danced with you that night,” she confessed, swaying with him as the turned in a slow circle. He lifted an eyebrow, pulling her closer as he set his hand in hers, she responded by taking her other hand from his face and resting it on his shoulder. “I was drunk and silly,” she smiled, then she gave him a look, a glint in her eye, “and you were the prettiest boy in the room.”

They twirled and danced with the crowd around them, feeling the music run along their bones. “And what would you have done with me after the dance?” he asked suggestively before spinning her under his arm.

“I would have pulled you into another one, of course,” she smirked, the tapped him on the nose with a slender finger, “don’t be so lewd, there’ll be time for that later.” He tugged her to him, leaning in to kiss her, but she pressed her finger to his lips. “Besides, I have something to tell you,” she couldn’t help but grin now.

Taking his hand, she pulled it down to her abdomen. She kissed him before saying, “I’m pregnan-!”

She squealed, having suddenly been picked up and spun around, Dorian laughing beneath her. When he set her down, she was assaulted with kisses, a wide grin upon her face. “I knew it I knew it I knew it,” he repeated between kisses. “The handmaidens have been fussing about you lately I had my suspicions and the healers have been up and down the castle to our chambers and- Oh, Aelin, I love you so much!”

She laughed and threw herself into his arms, clutching to her husband tightly as tears began to well in her eyes. “I love you, too,” she beamed, wondering if there could ever be a moment more perfect, as they began to dance again.


End file.
